Thanksgiving [11/22/07]

I finally have access to email and the internet for a couple of days...
I am back in Kombo for Thanksgiving. All Peace Corps volunteers came to Kombo this year because today was the celebration of 40th Anniversary of Peace Corps The Gambia. The Peace Corps held Thanksgiving at the US Ambassador's House. Mashed potatoes and pumkin pie have never tasted so good.

On Saturday I leave to visit my permanent site for a few days. I am excited to finally see where I will be living for the next two years. Training is almost done. After site visit, I have a week left in Kombo and if I pass the language exam, I am sworn in as a peace corps "volunteer" (promoted from trainee).

I have been in The Gambia for two months, but it is amazing how quickly my perspective has changed. Around our dormitories here in Kombo, I was amazed at how nice the buildings looked. I remember when I first arrived, I thought the area looked a little run down and dirty. I also had a bag of fritos the other day. I like all chips except fritos for which I have a particular dislike, but they tasted great. We joke here that somethings are Gambian good. Items which normally taste bad are considered good.

Difficulties

Training is ending. Recently, we found out about our living/permanent sites; I will be placed on the North Bank of the river, near a town called Kuntair, close to the Senegal border. My village is a small Fula village and I will replace a current volunteer. I look forward to site visit where we go to our site for a few days.

I have a short time left in training village. So far I have been really happy and adjusting well to the different culture. The language, though, has been the most difficult part. I am learning it, but I have been hesitant to use it. Some trainees in my village are really good at talking to villagers. I know the only way to get better is practice. We leave our training villages for Kombo on Thanksgiving. We will celebrate the holiday with all the Peace Corps volunteers in country.
It is hard to believe training is almost done; time has flown by.

Bumsters (Toubab Part 2)

I need to clarify Gambians usage of Toubab. Toubab means visitor or stranger but it is now used to describe a white person. Most African countries have a word with a similar meaning. It does not have a negative connotation. As a white person in Africa, I attract a lot of attention.

When all of us trainees travel in the Peace Corp small bus, people are always yelling Toubab as we pass. It is not in a derrogatory way; they are merely stating the fact we are passing by. Many people wave to us. Some kids get really excited and run following the bus. Sometimes the attention is not passive and we get hassled. Stopping in a market, people (mostly kids) ask for anything they can see with us, e.g., a bottle, a pen, a camera or candy. It can be annoying.
A more intimidating form of harrassment comes from the Bumsters. They, mostly men in their late teens/early 20s, hang around tourist locations and ferry terminals. At one ferry crossing they surrounded our group. They start by friendly asking your name; they slowly break the group apart. They do not understand personal space and stand really close to you. The women in our group had it the worst. The bumsters asked the girls for money, if they had a husband and if they wanted to get married. They do not take "no" for an answer, are very persistent and keep trying (Some tourist women apparently look for sex or a husband.).

Kids and bumsters on the street can be a nuisance but there is a way to deal with them. We were taught and I found out it works well to ignore them and keep walking; they will eventually give up. Gambians also joke a lot. If someone asks for an item, I turn it around and ask them for something. Once this girl stayed by my side for 10 minutes asking for a donut; finally I asked for her shirt as a trade. She looked confused and walked away.

Food - Part 2

Last time I wrote about food, I complained. I still miss the type and variety we have at home but the food is starting to grow on me. The peanut sauce (they use over the rice) tastes good, and the green leaf sauce does not seem as bitter. While rice, and now coos (a cereal pounded into a fine grain) gets old quickly, I am starting to get used to it. When I become a "real" volunter and go to my definite site, meals will be flexible. I most likely will cook my own breakfast and maybe dinner. I will have time to go to the weekly markets to buy vegetables and fruit, and from time to time I can go to Kombo the capital area (where Banjul is located), to stock up on food from the western super markets. I believe I will be about 4 hours away from the capital area and I can get a 'bush taxi" to go there; it costs about $3 one way.

Upcountry Field Trip

One day, all PC trainees went upcountry to Janjanbureh, formely known as Georgetown, to visit current volunteers at their sites. We saw volunteer projects such as rabbit breeding, sesame farming, poultry raising, gardening, and soap making. We learned about their successes, difficulties and failures; they explained that our projects are trial and error and what works in one place might not work somewhere else.

The location of our hotel was excellent - on the river and covered by trees - but the facilities and buildings were run down. Tourists would probably find the facilities sud par, but the room was only $30 per night. I never thought that I would say this, but I missed my bucket bath. There was a real toilet but the shower was right over the toilet and had very little water, and the water was colder than my bucket bath when I leave it in the sun for a few hours. However one thing I did not miss was the pit latrine; toilets are much more confortable.

Offending a Village

I cut coos stalks for several days to build my garden fence. On the second day, three other trainees helped me cutting and we made a big pile. We decided to carry them on a (white checkered) bed sheet so we didn't get itchy from the stalks rubbing against our skin. We each carried one corner over our shoulder. When we entered town, everyone was staring or pointing; we figured they were laughing at us because four of us were carrying what one women would probably carry on her head.

However, on our third trip carrying the bundle, our trainer stopped us and told us we were offending the village. We were carrying the stalks in the same way as they carry their dead. Since no one had died, it could be a sign that someone would die soon. We felt bad, and not knowing the language made it more difficult because we could not explain ourselves. Thus, our trainer apologized for us but it did not make us feel any better.

The village has had PC trainees for years and they understand we do not know their culture. So this event is a good learning opportunity because when we get to our actual site (where we will spend the 2 years) the villagers will be less familiar with whites' lack of knowledge about their customs. Making cultural mistakes there will not be as easy to explain. The Peace Corps train us but they cannot cover all areas.

The next day a cow died that was borrowed from another village. It was a big deal because villagers keep their savings in herds of cattle, not banks. We wondered if the town would blame us for the death, but our trainer (who by the way is Gambian) said they would not.

I have committed a few other cultural taboos or mistakes since I have been here:
o Rotating the food bowl, which is supposed to cause stomach ache;
o Asking about buying salt at night (buying or borrowing salt, needles or soap at night is avoided. If someone needs salt from someone at night, they will just take it and pay the person the next day.);
o Washing my face with my left hand. Some of the kids looked at me like I was crazy because the left hand is used to wipe.

My First Project

While our main focus in training village is to learn the language, we have to make a garden bed for our families. The project is more for our practice but it gives the family vegetables, if they choose to continue watering.

Most Fulas do not garden especially in the dry season because it involves extra work such as watering. My family's garden was covered chest high in weeds with a small pepper section. My host brother told me my mother threw seeds but did not weed. He said Fulas are lazy and do not want to garden since they are known as cattle herders. Mandinkas and Wolofs (other tribes) generally have good gardens.

My host brothers helped me cut the weeds and dig the bed but the fence was a problem. Two sides of the garden had gaps between the posts. The dry season has started and the animals (goats, sheep and cattle) are turned loose. Thus I cut coos stalks (similar to corn stalks) to fill the holes. I had my host brother help me to involve him so that the family would hopefully view the project not as a "Toubab" (white people) project , but theirs instead. If they feel ownership, they hopefully will continue watering the garden. I need to use this strategy with all projects because many projects fail when the projects are viewed as a "toubab" project, and the volunteer leaves.

Family Roles in Gambia

Since my family is big and confusing and I don't know the language, it is difficult to understand the dynamics of their behavior but there is a clear separation between male and female roles.
Men. They are the head of the household, and expected to provide for the wife and kids. They make the decisions and have control over most of the money. They work in the fields and grow cash crops such as peanuts (groundnuts). They also do all the "hard labor" work such as constructions, fencing, land clearing, and road repair, and they also care for the cattle (Remember, I live with the Fula people, the cattle herders).
Women. Many claim the women work much harder than the men. They run the house; they sweep, cook, clean, collect firewood, fetch water and care for the kids. They work in the rice fiedlds, collect leaves for sauces, and garden. Women keep their own money if they make any selling vegetables, bananas or doing small jobs.
Small Boys. They are the messengers or errand runners. They get things for their parents or family friends such as water, firewood, leaves or coos. They "do whatever they are told". They also are a big help to Peace Corps volunteers because they are full of enthusiasm and ready to help with any project.
Here kids do what they are told. When told by a parent to stop doing something, they stop immediately. This probably comes from the fact that parents hit or beat their kids. Western thought is making beatings less common, but I hear it still occurs. My village has many young kids and babies. I expected to hear them cry more often, but it is rare to hear a kid cry; parents do not baby them. Older kids, even slightly older, have authority over younger ones. When an older kid says stop, they younger ones will listen. There is a hierarchy by age.

Nightime

It seems Gambians sleep little. My village has no electricity; candles, flashlights and moon light are their sources of light. I expected people to go to sleep when it gets dark but that is not the case. At night, my family sits in front of their compound on mats or small wooden benches; they use a flashlight to eat, make attaya (a sugary tea) or to find something. Otherwise they sit and talk in the dark. I usually go to bed shortly after dinner, around 9:30pm. My family says I go to bed early but I get tired from the heat and the day. I am not sure when they go to bed but I have woken up to talking around midnight.
In the morning, they are up before me. I usually wake to the sound of pounding (Women pound for almost every meal.) The villagers (mostly Muslims) also wake to pray between 5 and 6am. My village has a small mosque without a speaker system. A trainer in the next village lives next to the mosque and she wakes to the call of prayer every morning. Even though our mosque is quiet, there are plenty of other noises from goats, dogs, donkeys and roosters, which make it difficult to sleep soundly. I am glad I am a deep sleeper who can fall back asleep easily; some have trouble sleeping. Apparently, there is nothing compared to donkey mating season; I will wait to see if I can sleep through that.

Daily Routine in Village

6:30-8am: At 6:30am it is bright enought to see and I want to do as much as I can because it is the coolest part of the day. I first go outside and greet my family in the compound. Greetings are extremely important, not greeting is rude. I then sweep my little house because dust gets everywhere. I then take my shower/bucket bath after fetching water; then organize my things, eat breakfast, and water my garden. Right before 8am I head to class making sure to greet everyone along the way.
8-12pm: All os us trainees in village (5) gather under the mango tree to have language class with our LCH instructor.
12-1:30pm: We are supposed to practice language skills with our families and the community but our language is not good enough. We usually talk a little but we mostly listen to our host families talk amongst themselves without understanding much. We are starting to understand a word here and there and sometimes we can formulate an answer. It is hard!!! Hopefully we will get good enough soon.
1:30-2:30: Lunch time. Our families provide us breakfast and dinner (rice or coos) but the Peace Corps provides lunch. They bring vegetables and meat and a villager cooks for us because veggies and meat are not usually part of the families' food bowl.
[12-4 is the hottest part of the day. Most people do not work and they usually sit in the shade.]
2:30-6pm. Free time. We usually work in our language manuals until 4pm. As it starts to cool off, people start to work. We work in our gardens, fix fences, plant seeds or walk through the fields.
6:00-7pm: The sun sets. Thus, I try to do many things before it gets dark; I take a bucket shower which feels great because the cool water washes away the dirt and sweat. If I can't do it in the light of the day, I either cast my shadow against the fence (putting on a show for my neighbors) or I cannot find the soap and shampoo in the pitch black.
7:00-9pm: I sit with my family outside in the dark and eat dinner (around 8pm) out of a communal food bowl (men separate from women).
9:00-10pm: I go into my house, brush my teeth, sometimes write in my journal and got to bed.
That is my daily life in an African village in The Gambia!!

Why am I here?

[Note: the next 10 posts were uploaded by Lolo, who received them in a letter from Alex.]

When I joined the Peace Corps, most people asked me why. My reasons have changed over time, but it is difficult to pinpoint one reason. In village, we had a discussion about our reasons for being here. The "cross cultural experience" interested one girl; she wanted to live in a different country learning about their culture while sharing hers. She wants to have a good time and help people in the process but she is most excited about the experience. For another volunteer, the job is "inspiring". He believes Gambians can farm today happily but they are degrading their soil and resources. He wants to help Gambians farm more sustainably to maintain and hopefully improve their standard of living.
My reason to be here is a little of both. I want to help them improve their environment but I feel my greatest impact comes from the cross cultural exchange and the ability to share my experience with you all and when I get back to the States.
The conversation began when one trainee in the village became disilllusioned. He thought he joined the Peace Corps to help, almost to save the people, since they lived in poverty. But he found people here, even though they have very little, to be happier than most people in the States. Even though they work hard, they smile and joke constantly, and they do not joke as a defense mechanism or front. The villagers are genuinely happy with their current lives. Motivating people to change is one of the greatest challenges as a Peace Corps Volunteer.

What I miss the most?

AMERICAN FOOD!!!
I know most people claim America does not have typical food except hamburgers and hot dogs but I miss food from home. Fruits, uncooked vegetables, pasta, Mexican food and salads would taste unbelievable right now. The food here has little variety and is based on rice or coos. For breakfast it is either rice, oatmeal or sour milk; for lunch and dinner is rice with some sort of sauce (either peanut, green leaf or tomato). Sometimes there is meat like beef or fish, but the fish is so small it is all bones and the few vegetables placed in the food bowl are extremely overcooked. Food is eaten out of a communal bowl with a person's right hand. Some people are starting to use spoons but is is uncommon. Men and women tend to eat separate out of different bowls and food is never wasted; someone will eat it or it can be eaten for breakfast the next day.

Toubab

When traveling in most African countries, the locals call white folks "Toubab", or a variation of it (probably corresponding to the word "gringo"). I was first toubabed in the capital area walking down the street with some other PC trainees. It is usually the kids that say it. At first I thought current volunteers were exaggerating how often people say it, but today we went to a weekly market and it seemed that all people could say was Toubab. Everywhere I went people kept saying it. Since I will be here for two years, I will probably get used to it. I heard though that, when one learns the language and can speak to the kids, they stop doing it.

The kids and adults will ask us (the Toubabs) for things like candy, pens, bottles or just anything else. This cycle is reinforced with tourists who throw them those things plus stickers, coins, etc, out of the windows when they travel up country.

Someone who came to Africa as a PC said the toughest thing is not to be able to blend in due to the difference in skin color.

[From toubab.com: A toubab is the generic name for a white person in West and Central Africa... it is not a derogatory term of address and is more especially used in the Gambia and Senegal. Depending on which you wish to believe... the name Toubab has many suggested derivations, amongst which are: A corruption of the Arab word Tabib meaning doctor.. a verb in the Wolof language manging "to convert" (the early doctors and missionaries during colonial times, being whites coming from Europe) or the generally preferred... that it is derived from the two bob (two shilling) coin of pre-decimalisation UK currency when the Gambia was a British Colony.]

Getting Technical Skills (a break from village)

Every couple of weeks during the 9 week training we will travel to a tourist hotel camp that has electricity, flush toilets, showers and soda (coke and fanta), where we meet again the other trainees from the other villages - 24 of us. It is only 12 kms for us but it takes 30-40 minutes due to the poor road condition. It is a time to take a break from village life and swap stories and experiences. The best story was told by a guy who missed the lesson about village skills back in the capital. He could not figure out why other vonlunteers had left over "clean" water from taking a bucket bath. It turned out that instead of scooping the water in a cup and pouring it on him, he was standing in the bucket and letting the soapy water fall back in the bucket. I still cannot figure out how he could get both of his feet in the bucket; it must have been very unconfortable.

This meeting happened to us the week of October 15 and we stayed in the lodge hotel for 4 days. There we learned about health and the main component was the technical skill workshops. Since we are "environment" volunteers, we have done garden bed preparation, soil mixture, composting and tree grafting. We also planted seeds so when we return back to the hotel in two weeks we can follow the vegetables progress. It will be important when we go to site to have an understanding of local flora, fauna and crops. It will give us credibility when we work with farmers and villagers.

We also had our first language test. We will be graded low/mid/high in 3 categories: novice, intermediate and advanced. I received a novice high, not bad after 2 weeks in training (language is mostly what is taught at the village). To swear in as a volunteer, a trainee needs to reach intermediate mid. Language is my biggest frustration at the moment because I cannot communicate to most of my host family members or other villagers. My host brother speaks English pretty well, though, and explains a lot about village life. It would be ever more difficult if I did not have him. Hopefully I will be able to understand the language and communicate better soon. I know it will take time and patience, but it is frustrating when I sit next to someone and all I can say are the greetings.

Naming ceremony - Pate Jawo

After three days in the training village, the five PC volunteers (including myself) living in that village had our naming ceremony. We received our Gambian names; I am now called Pate Jawo. Naming ceremonies are big in Gambian culture. Within a week after a baby is born, they do the ceremony. Family and friends get together to celebrate the event. The family chooses the name and shaves the baby's head. The family says prayers and everyone begins to party.

Family is extremely important to Gambians and one's extended family will live in the same compound (group of huts/houses). Gambian families are hard to understand due to polygamous marriages, early death of parents and care of dead relative's children. In my family, the Jawo family, we have both of my grandfathers's wives, my father's brother's wife and their kids and the grandchildren of one of my grandmother's families, before she became my grandfather's wife. If it sounds confusing, it is. There is also the fact that Gambians consider their father's brothers' kids and mother's sisters' kids their own siblings (brothers and sisters). Divorce occurs here too, which I didn't expect; when it happens, the first wife usually cannot tolerate the second wife. So I have this big family and I am not too sure who is who.

Reality Sets In - Training Village

I am staying in one of the handful of villages used by the Peace Corps for training. I am glad my village was not the first one when we came from Banjul because the change was abrupt. When we arrived at the first village by bus, many of us did not even realize we had arrived at a training place; the sign was small and it looked like any other small village we had passed by. The driver announced the village and the trainees living in that village got off. Right away they were swarmed by kids and we took off to the next village. Knowing what had happened allowed us to mentally prepare for our turn, because all we were told beforehand was that our LCH (trainer) would meet us in the village.

When I stepped off the bus at my training village, I had my African moment as I saw kids running toward me with the sight of the small village behind them. It was then that it really struck me that I was in Africa... the thatched and corrugated metal roofed huts, the fields of crops, the goats, sheep and chickens roaming freely made me realize the experience had begun!!

My village is the smallest training village with a population of 100 to 200 people. Therefore it took us less than 5 minutes to reach the center of town. Before we even noticed, we all had a child holding our hand and walking by our side. In front of us was a big tree with a flat cement platform; under it many women and children were lying and sitting - they were our new Moms but we didn't know that. We were not sure what to do for a minute but then we saw our trainer. She took us to sit under the tree with the women; they tried speaking to us. All we could understand was the greetings. We sat there and tried to say the couple of lines in Pulaar we knew. After that, we were introduced to our "host" mother and family. They showed us to our house and we set about doing the basic things such as sweeping and hanging up our mosquito net.

Each volunteer gets their own house/hut. Some look more like huts while others are a type of apartment for the PC trainee in the same structure as other people in the family. They resemble a room or an apartment but the Gambians call them houses. I live in one of these apartment/houses, which is about half of my bedroom at home, divided into 2 little rooms. Because we are PC trainees we have screens on the doors and windows and a cement floor. This is not the case for Gambians; no one has screens but many have cement floors (at least in my village). We also have a small backyard that has a separation that divides our pit latrine from the rest. I am lucky that my walls there (made of wood and dried reeds) are tall enought that I can stand on my pit latrine cover when I take a bucket bath. Some people have to squat or crouch to take their bath. It has been difficult learning to aim while squatting and taking a bucket shower but with time it has become easier.

New posts from Alex that came via letter

As you know, Alex will not have access to email/web until first week of December, when he finishes his training. At that time, he will mail us a CD with the pictures he takes and we will post them.
The next 5 posts came from Alex via "slug" mail and I posted them. Actually, the letter took 1 week from him to the post office in Banjul (the capital), then 1 week from Banjul to Los Angeles. So it appears that the minimum time is 2 weeks, from the village - but the letter did arrive.

It is expensive to send things to Gambia but letters are the normal international stamp price and the post office in America has flat rate boxes and envelopes for books/magazines - fyi. [from Lolo]